


Stay a Little Longer

by TheIcyQueen



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Prompt Fill, Spoilers, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 22:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17775557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIcyQueen/pseuds/TheIcyQueen
Summary: And there they were again, back in the labs where everything had begun and ended. They'd lived lifetimes between then and now; they'd been entirely different people. It's said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but the whole "heart" thing was...pretty new to them. Unfortunately, so were the emotions that went along with them.





	Stay a Little Longer

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt fill for lapislazulily on tumblr! 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr as "queenofbaws," where my inbox is always open for prompts/ideas! I'm in the process of migrating some of my more substantial drabbles over from there, so if any of these seem familiar, that's why!

Though he was loathe to admit it, there had been… _apprehension_ whenever he considered returning to the labs. He wanted to chalk it up to a simple association: He had died there, ergo it was not safe. But it was more than that. So very, very much more. And honestly, the whole business of having a heart again, well…it was making _everything_ that much more difficult. 

Having a heart meant he _couldn’t_ simply write everything off as incidental; having a heart meant that he had to take stock of what was _really_ going on inside his head. Historically, that was not something at which Ienzo was particularly adept. He was getting better at recognizing things for what they truly were, sure, but when it came to owning up to them he was still abysmal. 

Utterly, unmistakably, undeniably abysmal. 

Still, he had made up his mind–as though to defy the furious racing of his heart whenever the thought occurred–to go back down those stairs, to blow the dust off of their old research, and to a much lesser extent, face his fears. 

“I didn’t expect to see _you_ down here anytime soon.”

The voice sent fingers of ice through his ribs. He could feel the hand squeeze around his heart, filling the space around his lungs with freezing water. Ienzo debated whether he wanted to take the final step into the labs after all, or if it would be easier to just…turn away. He set his shoulders. “And _I_ didn’t expect to see _you_ awake anytime soon.” Keeping his gait casual, he approached one of the old, broken consoles, pretending to be wholly interested in the cobwebs that had gathered between the screen and its keys. “Color us both surprised.”

Even raised his eyes from what he’d been looking at–a cluster of books laying open, their pages covered in his own thin, spidery script. He regarded Ienzo with equal parts wariness and intrigue before returning to his old notes. “I’ve been awake for some time now, actually.”

“Mmm.” The sound was airy, noncommittal. _Uninterested_. Both knew it was a farce. Both knew there was _nothing_ that happened in the Castle which escaped Ienzo’s knowledge. “Adjusting?”

“As well as one could expect, I suppose.” 

Ienzo pulled one sleeve over his hand and wiped a layer of dust from a screen as he attempted to wake the machine connected to it. “Considering none of us _expected_ this, I’m not entirely sure whether that’s meant to be reassuring or concerning.”

Even’s eyes continued to scan the page, though he found he had long since stopped reading. “Take it as you will, then.” The air had taken on a strange, tense energy since Ienzo had entered. There was an uncertainty hanging thick between them, the sort of condensed and latent energy that crackled to life whenever two like-minded predators found they had cornered the same prey. At least back in the basement of Oblivion, there had been shadow in which they could couch themselves; in the Castle, everything was bright and brilliantly illuminated. 

Meaning, of course, that they were forced to _see_ each other–literally _and_ figuratively. 

After what seemed to be an eternity of strained silence, Even had had enough. With a dry cluck of his tongue, he shut the book he’d been looking over with a pronounced _thwump!_ and turned to face Ienzo. It wasn’t a reaction he relished in any way, as he already _knew_ what Ienzo was thinking. Even was _always_ the first to break. _Always_. But surprising himself, he found he didn’t much care _what_ Ienzo thought just then. “Is it going to be like this for the rest of time?” he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Ienzo pointedly ignore him. 

“Like what?” Ienzo had managed, miraculously, to get one of the old machines up and running. He poured his attention into entering old passwords and encryption keys in an attempt to–ostensibly–access old files. He kept his back to Even. 

“Pretending nothing’s happened.”

“Nothing _has_ happened.” Ienzo shrugged, but the motion seemed scripted. He took a moment to turn, offering Even only his profile over one shoulder, “It’s not like _I’m_ the one who killed you. Nor you me. We carried on our work as usual. You were gone, now you're back. What else is there to discuss?”

Even felt the corners of his mouth tighten as he managed to barely suppress a biting remark. It was only recently that he had woken up, and much as he would vehemently deny it if pressed, he knew he was not yet in any condition to go toe-to-toe with Ienzo in any sort of argument. The boy wielded words in much the same way Even wielded a scalpel–masterfully and _lethally_. “Oh I think there’s plenty to discuss.”

Ienzo _did_ turn, then. He leaned himself back against the console and folded his arms as well, a perfect imitation of Even’s stance. Maybe he noticed this, noticed that in the right light the resemblance the others always commented on was really and truly _there_ , and a moment later he held his arms at his sides instead. “All right. Where would you like to begin? This mess with Xehanort? Or maybe Oblivion, where you were a disposable means to an end, keeping me from getting my hands dirty? No? How about The World That Never Was, where you were wholly passed over for a leadership role–well, _any_ role that would’ve earned you a modicum of respect, really–because _I_ was the golden child? Hmmm, or would you prefer to go back further?” He leaned in, almost confidentially, but the cruel, mocking curve of his mouth was apparent, “Is this about my childhood? Do you want to talk about my childhood, Even? Where to even _begin_ with that mess–” 

“If you think I don’t know you well enough to recognize when you’re feeling cornered, you are _sorely_ mistaken, boy.” 

Ienzo’s scowl deepened, having the distressingly incongruous result of making him look somehow younger, as though he were only a child pitching a fit. “I am not–”

“You prattle on and on and on, lashing out with that sharp little tongue of yours, hoping that you can inflict _some_ sort of damage before anyone realizes you’re panicking.” Even spat it more than he said it, but the effect was immediate: Ienzo stood stalk-upright, as though he’d be struck. It was _Even’s_ turn, then, to be melodramatic. He placed a hand on his chest, as though pantomiming shock, “Oh my. How could the blathering old man have caught onto _that_ , I wonder? As though you didn’t learn it from _me_.” He lowered his hand back to the book he’d been examining earlier, lowering his gaze to its cover. “I’m well aware I’m not your favorite person, Ienzo.”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, eyes narrowed. His face was still calm, but Even knew his expression belied the tempest beginning to brew beneath the surface. “Don’t _begin_ to pretend as though it’s nearly as one-sided as that. Don’t act as though I don’t know _precisely_ what you think of me–”

“Zexion,” Even corrected flatly, quieting Ienzo again. “You know what I think– _thought_ –of Zexion.” 

To that, Ienzo seemed to have no reply. A miracle in and of itself. His gaze remained on Even, unrelenting in its ferocity. And then, sensing, or perhaps only _fearing_ that he would not win this, he too lowered his eyes. He made a small, flippant noise and shook his head, making quick, clipped steps back towards the staircase to the Castle proper. 

Even let him reach the base of the stairs before opening his book once more, speaking with the same flat, measured tone. “You can stay a little longer, you know,” he said; though he could no longer _see_ Ienzo, he felt him linger at the sound of his voice. “There’s a lot we left unfinished here. Heaven knows I can’t make sense of it all on my own.” Silence drifted between them, as choking as the dust particles that hung in the stale air. “I know this will be a foreign concept to you, but whether you like it or not, we share a trauma now, you and I. A considerable one. We’ve suffered together and we’ve survived together. Regardless of what you may want, you and I? We’re linked. _Inextricably.”_ Even flipped to another leathery page, fingers trailing the indentations his own pen once had left, what seemed like a lifetime ago. “Perhaps we should learn to make the most of that.” 

The silence continued for such a time that Even found himself doubting whether Ienzo _had_ stayed, whether he _had_ heard him. But then, slowly at first, the muted sound of rubber soles on marble floors echoed closer and closer.

Ienzo opened another book from the pile and flipped through the front matter.

 


End file.
